


Tender If Not Gentle

by Not_You



Category: Watchmen (Comic), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Time, M/M, Masochism, Mild Blood, Rough Sex, Sexual Identity, Violence, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 06:26:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10736004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: Another old kinkmeme fic, written for a prompt for the inverse of the usual situation:  Rorschach is the half of the Nite Owl-Rorschach Team that knows he's queer, and Dan is the one who has only recently figured it out.





	Tender If Not Gentle

He's gripping Daniel's hair like grim death, and he knows it must be hurting him and that he should stop, but he just. Can't. He tries to kiss his shoulder, but it becomes a hard bite as the urge to mark Daniel's pale skin overpowers him. His victim cries out, the sound agonized and keening, but he pushes back against Walter, babbling in a high, frantic whisper. He parses the words and finds that Dan is begging for him to do that again only harder, to please please please make him bleed, that he needs it, that he needs Walter. Daniel is the only person whose orders he ever follows, and the taste of his blood is metallic and intoxicating.

They're only in this mess because of Walter's weakness. He had stayed strong for as long as he could, but that had only lasted until his fifteenth birthday, when his sparring partner had pinned him to the shower wall and damned them both. Luckily enough, the kid had been farmed out to some family that had appeared out of nowhere. Even if it felt like his heart was being carved out, at least they were safe from each other. After that, it was easier. He held on until he left Charleton, and none of his nameless tricks have Bobby Sinacore's tough, gentle hands and luminous blue eyes. 

Walter finds them where he can. He actually likes the big, mean ones looking for rough trade the best. He likes slapping them around before he bends them over and fucks their ideas about size and strength right out of them. He likes to make them whimper and squeal, and the only star in an entire firmament of depravity is the fact that he always makes sure they come too. And anyone who sincerely pleads to be let go is allowed up, allowed to grab his pants and tug them up as he runs or hops or limps away.

He hadn't been stealthy enough about it. Daniel had somehow found out, had skulked after him like one of _them_ , and he had whirled and slammed him hard against the wall before recognizing his partner. The feverish glow in his eyes and his obscenely tented jeans had made Walter shudder and lick his lips before asking him why the hell he was there at all. And Dan had told him. Had admitted that he had never so much as jerked another guy off, and had looked wounded when Walter shoved him away and told him to go home.

Now Daniel wails, bracing his knees further apart as Walter pounds into him. Walter can't forget the wide-eyed, nearly frightened look Daniel had given him when he had first pressed two fingers deep inside him, and he wants to soothe him. Daniel deserves gentleness, but Walter is driven to mark him. To claim him. He knows everything is too hard, too much. Daniel has never even done this before, but he's obediently holding onto the headboard, his hands white-knuckled where Walter put them what seems like a year ago. His forehead rests between them, because he hasn't had the strength to raise it in a while, almost every muscle in his body helpless and trembling under Walter's onslaught.

"Good." Walter growls. "Doing good, Daniel." He claws down Daniel's back, leaving ten red stripes, and then does it again and again along his sides, slowly.

"Oh god, Rorschach-- Rorschach, please!" He's sobbing, bucking under him and begging for Walter to let him come. The way he seems to have forgotten that his hands aren't bound makes Walter groan and bite him again as he finally reaches down to stroke Daniel roughly, forcing him over the edge with a howl. Walter followed close behind, digging his nails into Daniel's chest and his teeth into the back of his neck, growling luxuriously as his partner whimpers helplessly. 

"Rorschach." Daniel whispers when he's finally still.

"Sorry." He croaks. "Sorry, Daniel." He starts kissing the brutal marks on his neck and shoulders, trembling. "Didn't mean to be so rough. Sorry." Daniel makes a little noise that he's scared might be crying before it resolves itself into breathless laughter.

"I asked you to make me bleed, Rorschach. I was onboard for this." He mewls, shuddering as Walter slides out of him and gently tugs him to lie on his side. He can tell from the way Daniel tenses slightly and then relaxes that no one has ever wrapped around him from behind and held him before, or at least not since he was a child, and he slowly rubs the scratches on his chest. Daniel shivers, melting against him. "What I said earlier stands." He mutters, catching Walter's hand and nuzzling his palm. "I wouldn't mind doing this again." He shifts one leg and hisses. "...Okay, maybe not quite so hard."

"Sorry." Walter murmurs again, licking this fingertips and reaching down to stroke Daniel's stretched, sore opening, making him wriggle and purr.

"Oh..." he breathes, rolling his hips just a little. "You can keep doing that." Walter chuckles almost inaudibly, and licks Dan's wounds, snuggling in against his back. He can tell the kid is exhausted, but fighting sleep. "...You still gonna be here when I wake up?"

His nerves feel like they will never snap again, like taking Daniel has removed the barbs that keep him awake for two days together, and he nods, holding him tightly. It's sick and it's wrong, but it's a lot like peace.


End file.
